


Lost Touch of Words

by Shatterpath



Series: Sassy, Snarky, and Sexy [6]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canon Related, Children, F/M, Feels, Female Protagonist, Jack Thompson is an ass, Morse Code, Motherhood, New Baby, World War II, crazy Stark tech, first smile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 14:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5500439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life with Grace can almost balance Peggy's losses.</p><p>Almost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Life had begun to settle into some sort of normalcy for Peggy. It had taken what felt like an eternity for some semblance of routine to settle over the household and the small, demanding addition to their numbers. That first week still made Peggy's chest and throat ache, the seesawing, hormonal emotions, the pains from neck to knees, the terror and elation of Grace's beautiful presence in her life.

The hell of saying goodbye to Steve once more.

No, not goodbye. He was right, damn it all, his words trapped in her memories like a radio transmission on repeat. 

"I'm not saying goodbye, Peggy. I have to believe that I'm going to come home to you gals with all my heart. It's the only thing that keeps me going most days."

His sweet, soft kisses to Grace's little face, the way she grabbed at his fingers and cried along with her mother when he was gone, those were the best and worst things that stayed with Peggy. In the draining weeks since, the memories ached like a scar.

But through all of it, Grace had become her greatest joy. 

Watching the uncoordinated little bundle learn the first steps of controlling her head and limbs, her eyes growing clearer, her strident little voice grow strong, all of those were milestones trapped in memory and with the camera Howard dragged around with him. When he didn't have it, Edwin was almost as persistent. Though they were far more careful with Peggy's privacy after she'd punched the camera hard enough to bruise each of their faces. Regina had stayed on the first week in deference to a child that may or may not be affected by her super-soldier father, but Grace seemed thankfully normal. If there was any enhancement, it was subtle in her, a slight acceleration in skills, the sturdiness of her tiny frame. Remembering the laundry list of illness and ailments in Steve's file, Peggy was so grateful to the late Abraham Erskine that she-- quite on a whim-- penned in 'Abigail' for the middle name on the birth certificate when they finally made it to the hospital due to the ferocious weather. 

Grace was an active, bright child, alert to her surroundings and instantly responsive to her mother's voice and heartbeat, as well as her extended family. Even Howard forgot himself here and there, cuddling the little one and talking rapidly at her. Only when the mercurial inventor got too excited would one of the others take her away. She would kick and flail her tiny fists about, the warm, earthy-colored eyes inherited from her mother learning to track movement and color and faces as she grew. So far, there was little of her handsome father to be seen in the round little face, but Peggy wasn't entirely certain she saw herself there either. That would come in time, she supposed. Grace was also a surprisingly quiet child for the most part, more content to observe than comment. "Like you mum," Anna would chuckle as she helped tend, as doting as any aunt or grandmother. When she did have something to say, however, she would let them all know it!

That didn't stop Peggy from waking frequently to reach out and put a hand on Grace's back or cheeks, ensuring her breathing remained regular, if not erratic here and there. Frankly, Peggy was hoping for some baby snoring to reassure herself on a more subconscious level. Perhaps then sleep would come more easily to both and the draining, mind numbing exhaustion might lift.

From the start, the adults took pains to ensure language would be a fluid, easy thing to Grace: the British lilt of her mother and Edwin, the rough native accent of Uncle Howard, the gentled cadences of Anna's German, the incongruous French lullabies Peggy found rusted in her memories that she would murmur to Grace's rapt attention. And through all of that, the constant tap-dash-swipe of Peggy's fingertips on the soft head and back and little hands and feet, the Morse Code spelling out the spoken words, and some sentiments that remained silent between them. It was a connection to Steve, a comforting tic to mother and daughter that would inevitably sink deep into Grace's deepest memories.

.. / .-.. — …- . / -.— — ..- 

With all the frazzled nerves of a new mother, Peggy was forever reluctant to even put Grace down for more than a short while, even as she was in constant conflict between that primitive need and whether or not she should be so needy. Doubtlessly Grandmother Grace would have something to say about coddling the child, but Peggy's aged memories of her parents were warm and tactile just as Steve had been since the moment they had touched as lovers. So she did her best to trust her instincts and relied on the warm and practical Regina rather than a bunch of cold, male doctors. 

After all, how could love and affection and touch be anything but the best for any living thing?


	2. Chapter 2

Blinking awake from a nap, Peggy was surprised to see Grace awake already, propped up on chubby little fists, looking around with that piercing dark gaze.

"Well, hello there, my darling," she whispered and instantly Grace focused on her, expression delighted. In lieu of the bassinet, they had stuck with an oversized upholstered chair pushed tight to the bed where Peggy could reach out and touch whenever the need arose. The sunlight was still bright outside so the nap couldn't have been too long, but every moment Peggy could get was a gift. Who knew one little girl could be as exhausting as wartime conditions? "You look very pleased with yourself."

As though in response to the compliment, Grace flopped down onto her chest again, Peggy reaching out to ensure her head was turned for easy breathing. With less than an arm-length between them, mother and daughter watched each other, little feet waving and scrabbling at the bedding until Peggy smirked. To her delight, the faint expression was echoed on Grace's little face, bringing on a full-faced smile to Peggy. And, for the first time, Grace's sweet little face wreathed in a gummy grin.

Every milestone thrilled Peggy, but this was an especially poignant one for the sudden glimpse of her father in that smile.

"Not entirely a Mama's girl after all, eh?"

" _Ach, meine Leiben_!" Anna admonished fondly as she bustled into the room. "You should still be sleeping."

"Anna."

"Still, it is a beautiful day outside and we should all soak up the sunlight, even if this snow seems as though it will never go away!"

"Anna."

"We have some lovely short ribs cooking for dinner that will go very nicely with the last of the apples canned in the fall, yes?"

"Anna," Peggy finally laughed and caught the older woman's attention away from her fussing over the immaculate room. "She smiled at me, Anna. My beautiful girl. For a moment there, I could see Steve in her at last."

" _Wunderbar_!" Anna praised and stroked Grace's back, making the child babble quietly with happiness. "Clever girl to bring your lovely mother such joy."

Both women keenly felt the melancholy of the moment, the delight of a new milestone for the clever child, but the yawning gap where her father should be. Anna had only spent those few days in Steve's presence in those first harried days of Grace's release into the world, but she had immediately liked the young man. He had been kind, not so much as a flicker of reaction to her German accent, and had apologized to Edwin for nearly mowing him down to get to his family.

Leaving had clearly broken his heart as much as Peggy's, both their gazes bright with tears and firm on the other until the heavy front door had thumped shut once more, separating them yet again.

Happy yet miserable was a state Peggy was all too familiar with and Anna stroked her head in silent comfort as she often did.


	3. Chapter 3

The phone call came in late in the evening, Anna's expression morphing quickly to concern before she called Peggy over. When she heard Chief Dooley's shaken voice explaining his call, she understood why. Few of the words actually registered. Something about a raid on a train, Barnes falling into a deep ravine, Steve leaping after him, both lost to the other Howling Commandos who hadn't even known they were gone for some time.

Of course, that was all days ago and the SSR was only now passing on the information to Peggy. Yes, Steve was fine, no, Bucky was not, but he was alive and in good hands and Peggy's relief for both of them was sincere, but so was her resentment and anger. Exactly as she had feared, she had become merely the wife, only worth informing after the fact.

"Carter? You there? We've got the line secure, but we might have it for an hour at best. We'll try and hold it for you, but…"

Anna watched with hushed alarm and understanding as Peggy quietly, numbly, hung up on her boss. Her skin was ashen except for twin spots of angry flush high on those dramatic cheekbones, eyes dilated until only a thin ring of rich brown showed.

"Well, that explains where Howard was off to in such a rush."

The tone was oddly conversational, but Anna knew the turmoil raging beneath the Englishwoman's calm façade. "The men, they think they are protecting us. They forget that sometimes, that can cause far more damage than the truth."

The façade cracked then, hot tears welling up in Peggy's eyes, her fists clenching until her bones were pressed white to her skin. Only when she choked on a sob did Anna step in to hold her rigid body, provide what little comfort she could. That afternoon, Grace had smiled for the first time, bringing her mother such joy. Now, she wanted to bolt, to get away from this life with a feral desperation that horrified her and left her paralyzed in place. The lack of battle wore her down until she felt like a raw nerve, screaming in the open air, for Peggy had never not known strife, loss, deadly danger. Her loved ones fought her fight and the inactivity and guilt ate her alive.

It took a moment for Peggy to register that Anna was holding her shoulders, repeating quietly but firmly, her name and the affectionate _leibe_ , over and over again. When she blinked back to the present, the older woman quirked a small, sad smile.

"You should go to that exercise room and take some time, yes? Leave Grace to me and I will come to you if she needs you. Go on."

It was a surefire way to exorcize the worst of the demons and Peggy only hesitated for a few moments. There was breastmilk enough for days in the freezer, just in case, and all of them would still be under Howard's sprawling roof. It would have to be enough.

"Anna, I…"

"You can thank me later, child. Go."

And so Peggy obeyed the gentle order and retreated to the solitude of taking out her frustration and isolation on uncomplaining, silent equipment until she was too tired and sore to resist sleeping right there on the stiffly padded floor with no more company than the shadowy ache of her conflicted dreams.


	4. Chapter 4

Not the day following Chief Dooly's call, but the day after, bright and early, Agent Peggy Carter strode stiffly past the banks of switchboards, ignoring as she always did the awe and resentment from the women there, providing the cover that let the SSR function. With a hiss of hydraulics and the whirr of gears, the hidden elevator was revealed and she stepped in to be whisked up to the bullpen. The hush that fell over the men there was ever so revealing and Peggy fought to not glower with every angry, violent impulse she hoarded so carefully. 

Though she couldn't deny a certain perverse thrill over some of their eyes widened at the state of her ravaged hands, the contusions and scrapes on her lower legs. The stark contrast to her perfectly made-up face was quite deliberate, aiming to cause confusion and make them think before they spoke.

Because Peggy Carter was quite finished with being quiet.

Right on cue, Dooley barreled out of his office, mouth open in a shout laid silent as he caught the streak of blue and red that was the enigmatic woman he'd never figured out. "Nice of ya to join us."

Roger Dooley had seen many dangerous things and they were all reflected in those big brown eyes. In that moment he finally truly saw the lioness Europe and all of its horrors had delivered to him. When she spoke, the crisp, British accent made no attempt to disguise the sarcasm and danger emanating from her too-still body. "Oh yes, do take me to task for being concerned for my child, and needing a moment to process being the last to be informed at the state of my unit and my spouse."

Even Dooly was at a loss of how to respond without stooping to a scumbag level he had no desire to reach. For better or worse, Thompson saved him the trouble, making a sarcastic sound and rolling his eyes. The new kid was talented, but Roger found himself wondering how a newly-minted vet with his quickly-infamous accolades had such lousy survival instincts as the coldly murderous look that transformed Carter's pretty face. Roger was an affirmed betting man and right now his money would be on Carter.

Silently and brusquely waving the woman over, he gestured at the disaster Howard Stark had turned his office into. As hoped, her expression morphed into slightly horrified astonishment, an echo of what his had been when the riot of equipment had been dropped on him. "Took us a couple days to get the damn thing working, but I think we got it. Feel free to tinker if you want. I'll see if I can raise London."

Peggy nodded silently and moved to look over the six cabinets of tubes and buttons and lights and switches and the spaghetti of thick wires connecting the whole damn mess. Several of them trailed out of his office to various power sources and Dooley was as tired of the random brown outs as he was the loss of privacy. Who knew he'd miss closing his goddamn office door so much?

After staring at the jumble of equipment for long moments, Peggy spotted a few familiar fittings and crouched to yank the front panel off of one cabinet and then another where everything looked to be connected properly. Then she spotted something amiss, reaching for it even as Dooley spoke out behind her.

"London, this is New York."

Roughly dislodging a thick cable from its multi-pronged fitting made every lamp in the sprawling offices and bullpen dim violently, one exploding to shouts in the other room. With deft hands, Peggy shoved the cable end into another port, seemingly identical to the other. With an audible hum, the equipment changed pitch and the lights burned even brighter than they had before. When a voice abruptly broke over the speaker on Dooley's desk, he nearly winced at the unexpected volume of it.

"New York, this is London. Go ahead."

Satisfied, Peggy stood, slapping her hands together and faintly wincing, clenching and unclenching her fingers like a boxer until the woman's voice on the radio caught her ear. Shoving the microphone to the other side of his desk, Roger gestured at it. "All yours, Agent."

Settling to the visitor's chair, Peggy pressed and held the big button, connecting her voice to her far distant hometown through Howard Stark's fancy machines. "Excellent to hear your voice again, Private Loraine."

"Peggy!" The familiar voice exclaimed in surprise and then sobered. "Err, Agent Carter, good to hear you alive and well. Colonel?"

That last word was barely winging its way across the Atlantic when Chester Phillips' voice grew in volume as he approached the distant communication unit. "Is that her? Goddammit, Carter, still causing me trouble from an ocean away?"

The berating warmed Peggy more than she over thought possible, the familiarity of it a welcome balm. "Why Colonel, one would think you might actually miss me."

"Miss you? You're damn right. This wise-guy operation has been a nightmare since Rogers ran you off. Where the hell is that idiot and his knucklehead squad anyway?"

Janet's reply was indistinct but exasperated and Peggy found herself swallowing a lump in her throat at the familiarity of it all. "You know how they hate being cooped up."

"Buncha wild animals acting like a troop of goddamn hoodlums without you pointin' them in a better direction."

"Oh, I hardly functioned as den mother, Sir."

"No, but your recklessness was smarter."

Looking at her battered hands, Peggy's response was wry. "Not always, but I appreciate the vote of confidence."

"Confidence nothing. Those goons treating you decent?"

Meeting Dooley's gaze, Peggy answered quietly. "Truthfully? I've spent little time in the office. Work at home keeps me busy, you know."

When the gruff voice carried over the airwaves again, it had gentled, Chester and not the colonel speaking to the bright woman he'd come to care about. "Yeah, I know how that is. How's that little project coming along?"

"Amazing. Exhausting. A thousand things I have no words for."

"Good to hear." There was a brief silence thick with words left unspoken and Dooley felt like he was intruding. "The signal's better this time, was that you?"

"The New York boys did a fine job, but I have the dubious distinction of being familiar with Stark's mad mind."

Phillips' scoffing huff of amusement was perfectly echoed from across the desk.

"If you've Loraine or a technician or the madman himself there, I can ensure the mess here is bang on."

"Yeah, we can do that. Good to hear from you, Carter."

"You too, Sir."


	5. Chapter 5

Settling in with a jittery private on the line, Peggy set about fiddling with Howard's machines to see if she could improve the installation.

"You're good at this," Dooly remarked at one point and Peggy's faint chuckle sounded from behind yet another open panel.

"I have known Stark a great many years and it has given me some insight into how his mind works. We may not be blood, but he's a brother to me in all the best and worst ways, something that has worked to both our benefits at times."

It was pretty much what Dooley had expected, having long discounted any manner of salacious rumors. Before either could speak further, there was a racket of sound over the speaker and Peggy's head shot up over the panel door at the familiar rabble. 

"Peggy!"

Somehow her name carried through on several blissfully familiar voices and she grinned with a jolt of elation she hadn't felt in too long. Fighting his amusement into merely a smirk, Roger watched her reach up the microphone, now sitting on the console she'd been fiddling with, and hit the send button to speak with wry fondness.

"Hello boys."

For a moment, there was a cacophony of voices and the two SSR agents shared a dry look at the Commando's boyish exuberance. Finally Dugan could be heard to shout the others down, berating them like a schoolyard bully. "Christ, you barkin' dogs, down already. See Pegs? Ya bail out on us and nothin' left but a bunch of wild animals."

They all made animals noises and laughed at that.

As it was obvious the Howling Commandoes were too excited to really behave themselves, Peggy let them ramble on, a riot of voices rising and falling over one another in English and French. When appropriate, she would reach up from the machines to hit the mic and make some affirming comment or sass them unmercifully. Little by little the machines and the Commandoes grew quieter until finally it was only Dugan left, his gruff voice carrying over the speaker.

"We miss ya. With Barnes out we don't have anyone left who can sharpshoot worth a damn."

Leaving off her fiddling for the moment, Peggy responded to the emotional undercurrent in his voice. "How is he?"

It took a moment for Dugan to answer and his voice was low and soft and hurting. "Dunno how he made it, to be honest. Fall tore his arm clean off at the middle of the humerus. Took your idiot four days to walk them both back to a medic. Good thing too. Can't help but wonder what those wackos did to the poor kid…"

Remembering how Steve had changed, Peggy tried not to wonder herself.

"I wish I could be there."

By the way her mouth pursed and her brows drew in, Roger knew she hadn't meant to say the words out loud. Quickly averting his eyes, he mumbled something about a meeting and beat a hasty retreat to go get the boys in the bullpen moving double time.

"Yeah, it really isn't the same," Dugan sighed, and an uncomfortable quiet fell between the friends. It was a keen ache, the distance between them, and it wasn't just the miles they felt. So much had changed…

"He's not coming, is he?"

Again, Peggy hadn't meant to voice that pain out loud, but she just had a feeling. The long silence at the other end was telling before Dugan heaved a great, sad sigh. "Truth? No one even knows where he is. Left the hospital a few hours before you called and been AWOL ever since. Doubt he's gone very far, but, no, I dunno that he's coming. Sorry Peg."

The seeming rejection ached, even knowing that Steve himself must be reeling from a desperate four day march with Bucky draped over his shoulders after a fall down an icy ravine that should have killed them both. Could she not have brought him some comfort, even if only with words?

There really was very little to say after that.


	6. Chapter 6

After Janet passed on news of Phillips working on getting information out of the captured German scientist, Armin Zola, Peggy knew there was little else she could do at the moment. The machines were quietly humming now, the electricity in the SSR stabilized, the transmissions secure. Aching with the lack of Steve's voice a ringing silence in her ears, she retreated without so much as a glance at the bullpen, every inch as worn down and exhausted as she had been dangerous and angry upon her arrival.

Things would come to a head soon and she needed to be with Grace now. Everything else faded away a bit in the face of that mutual need. Edwin met her at the door and provided a blessedly silent ride home. With a mix of relief and disappointment, Peggy stroked Grace's back where she lay sleeping, wanting so very much to hold her. Instead, she dutifully ate the soup and sandwich Anna brought her and sat in the nursery in a numb quiet.

Something didn't feel right. Not prone to flights of fancy or such ephemeral things as 'woman's intuition' and such nonsense, Peggy was nonetheless plagued by the sense of foreboding. There was no direct cause for it and she finally settled on the belief that it was only her missed opportunity to speak with Steve.

It was many a day that she mourned Grace not knowing her father. Not just for obvious reasons either. (1) She was never supposed to be the nurturing, soft one. That was going to be all Steve. Steve who was as wonderful with babies as he was animals. She was going to be stern but loving. Give the child boundaries and guidance. Teach them all the things about the world, and make sure they knew they were always, always loved. But Steve was supposed to be the one who would show them how much, every day, able to play and delight in everything. She was supposed to teach them how to be an adult. He was supposed to take care of the first few years. Show her how it was done.

Endlessly weary of tears, nonetheless, Peggy always seemed to have a few more, the wet streaks painting misery down her cheeks.

Late morning saw Peggy groggy and disoriented, panic-stricken at the empty crib. Stumbling and wild-eyed, she breathed out her daughter's name upon the sight of her, safe in Anna's arms. Without a word, she was handed over, Peggy burying her face in the softly fragrant baby skin, relishing the touch of tiny fists against her face and hair, the beat of Grace's tiny heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOOTNOTE: (1) Swiped almost word for word from my friend, Ayrki. It was too perfect not to share.


	7. Chapter 7

**FROM THE AUTHOR:** Look, I'm going to honest. I have been staring at this story for, quite literally, MONTHS. I can't get past this 'temporarily killing Steve off'. (Not a spoilers, so shush.) I have prodded every angle, written bits and pieces and it's just a level of angst I cannot get my stubborn muses to doggy-paddle through. It has been so long, in fact, that I am fearful that I will never finish the larger tale.

That said, imagine with me if you will. Peggy in the New York SSR office on Howard's fancy communication rig, forced to listen from a distance as the battle and wild flight on The Valkyrie (Schmidt's big, fuck-all plane). Howard physically takes her place in the battle-- scared out of his mind-- though he only gets a hug in the wild chase to get Cap on said plane. And it is Howard in the control room, mostly listening in growing horror as Peggy and Steve realize that there is no way out. (Yes, I'm going to include the unfinished scene below. And, yes, just remembering what I've written is making me choke up. There's a reason I don't do serious angst, people.) Then with it all over, Peggy listens to the horror of static over the line, of Howard's harsh breathing, possibly whispering her name. Then, white as a ghost, she stands and walks out, head held high, and returns to the daughter who needs her now.

Every agent hears the whole thing though Dooley's open door.

For further clarification, here is my timeline for this part of the larger Epic.  
3/2- Bucky falls and he and Steve are lost for the better part of a week. Howard vanishes from New York without explanation.   
3/6- Steve stumbles back into Allied forces and he and Bucky are immediately shipped off to London to recover.   
3/7- (afternoon) Grace, now 9 weeks old, smiles at Peggy for the first time. (night) Phillips calls back to New York with the story. When Dooley calls to tell Peggy, she gets upset and hangs up on him.  
3/9- With the Commandos back in London and Bucky recovering, Peggy gets to speak with her people via the 'Starkphone'. However, Steve is a no show. (Howard finds Steve in the pub instead of Peggy.)   
3/11- The final assault on Red Skull begins.  
3/12 (Mon)- The final battle actually happens. When Steve puts the plane down, he's desperate to protect Grace, to give her a chance. And he does do his best to land carefully, but the damn thing is huge and he has no idea what he's doing.  
3/16- Bucky returned to New York to finish recovering. Howard flies him, both are as wrecked as Peggy and no one knows what to say or how to help.  
3/25- Should have been Peggy and Steve's dance. (Does more than Howard show to keep her company?)  
4/9- Peggy's 26th birthday.  
5/8- VE Day and the attendant celebration in Times Square. (the Commandos were half in and half out of uniform, so some had been decommissioned.)   
5/mid-ish- Howard seen finding the Cube. (Bucky will probably be with him. They exchange a look and Howard tells the crew to keep looking.)  
6/early- Phillips escorts all the SSR files to New York and hand delivers Steve's folder marked Inactive? (Phillips sticks as close as he can, becoming a gramps to Grace.)   
7/4- Steve's 27th birthday.   
7/6- Steve and Peggy's first wedding anniversary. A somber day to say the least.  
By the end of the year, all rationing is over.

(Raw dialog for the radio conversation is below. Again, one day, I hope to get this all fleshed out. Thanks for your understanding.)

"How's Grace?"  
"She's here, as quiet as she usually is. She smiled less than a week ago and I could finally see you in her."  
"That's great. I guess if she's gotta get anything from me but hassle, the smile is good. Pegs? I'm so sorry I'm taking your smile away. If there was anything else I… we could think of, I would do it, but I'm not going to let that monster destroy New York… Grace…"  
And Peggy did understand, the horrible sacrifices that must be made to stop the insanity of people like Johann Schmidt. 

"Peggy, you have to take my place now."  
"Steve…"  
"I took your place here, in Europe, and it was the right thing to do. You have to take my place now. Fight the good fight, Doll, and you always give 'em hell for me! Deal?"  
"Deal."

"You tell Grace about me, not this goddamn role they made me play, this suit and the posters and that damn show."

"The controls are self-correcting."  
"No! Steve, I can try to--"  
"There's no time, Howard! I have to put her down. This thing's moving too fast and it's heading for New York. I gotta put her in the water."  
"Please don't do this. W-we have time. We can work it out."  
"Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die. Peggy, this is my choice. "

"Peg, I wish I had a better picture than this cheesy thing I tore out outta that paper for my compass."  
"It's no worse than all of these ridiculous 'Captain America' posters I see everywhere."

"Peggy…"  
"I'm here."  
For too-long moments, only static filled the dreadful quiet and Peggy couldn't let him go down in that quiet. So she reached deep and found the strength to speak again, her tone as normal as she could make it past the shaking.  
"You never took me on a proper date."  
"I didn't did I?" His agony and relief carried across the connection. "Tell you what, New York is notorious for its nightlife. How about I take you to the famous Copacabana? If not, the opera opened last year."  
"Oh Steve, I'd love to go dancing."  
"You've got it."  
"A week next Saturday then."  
"It's a date."  
"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?"  
"You know, I still don't know how to dance."  
"I'll show you how. Just be there."  
"We'll have the band play something slow. I'd hate to step on your..."  
And all she was left with was the hiss of static and silent tap-dash-swipe of the Morse Code letters she would never again trace into his skin.

(work in a reference to the 'you're late'. And possibly a bit more logic of to why Steve had to put the plane down, and with so little information about his location, etc. The movie failed us there.)

 

END NOTES: Yes, the tornado story is missing. One of the things I hope to fix in the future! It will get worked into Peggy talking quietly to baby Grace as she tries to move on.


End file.
